


Blood, Death & Shagging

by Kelkat9



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, BAMF Rose, F/M, Fright Night - Freeform, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1216801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/pseuds/Kelkat9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler is a slayer.  She travels the world in a fight against the undead.  It's a thankless job and one that remains hidden from the rest of the world.  Her next destination is Las Vegas, specifically, the Hard Rock Casino where a hunter known as Peter Vincent is about to need a little extra help.  The two of them fit better than either wants to admit and subtle slow burn simmers between them.  When vengeful vamp Joan shows up, she isn't the only one to end up in flames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood, Death & Shagging

**Author's Note:**

> For Isilienelenihin's bday. Happy Bday Isi! Thanks to Littlewhomouse for Lord McBitey's This is a Peter Vincent/Rose Tyler AU (not a fobbed fic) contains lots of cursing, violence, vampires, some slight fem slash which if you blink you’ll miss (nothing explicit there) and Explicit Peter/Rose sex at the end. 
> 
>  

A blonde girl with honey coloured eyes, dressed in jeans, a black leather jacket and a pink t-shirt with _punky fish_ written in rhinestones across it made her way down the Vegas strip toward the Hard Rock Casino. She wasn't traditionally pretty but was captivating nonetheless. Her full lips were unsmiling but many a bloke stared at them or her chest whilst making a lewd comment or asking her if she was for sale. She'd quirk a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and promised they couldn't afford her. That was an understatement.

The truth was they'd be lucky to survive just standing next to her. She wasn't just some innocent girl on vacation, or out trying to pull some rich bloke or even hunting for fame. What she hunted was entirely more deadly. It had already killed her family, friends and those that trained her. Her prey hunted those walking down the street or even tucked away safe and sound in their homes. They were ruthless, blood thirsty killers with no remorse or guilt. They were the undead, vampyrs and their only predator was her, Rose Tyler, also known as the Slayer.

She arrived at the Hard Rock Casino and stared at the giant poster outside advertising Peter Vincent's Fright Night show. Rose smirked at the image of the black leather clad performer with long black hair and black kohl rimmed eyes in a dramatic pose. The tourists loved this show and why shouldn't they? He was gorgeous and had a flare for drama and the pyrotechnics were amazing. Of course, the public also seemed to have a fascination with the undead. Rose snorted at this. If they only knew that the romanticized sparkly version they saw in the movies was utter bullshit, a pretty lie meant to sway the public and hide the truth about what real monsters they were. Rose had no illusions about how powerful centuries old vampyrs were much less their abilities at glamouring humans.

These practically immortal killers had watched as humanity developed, influencing when they could, taking what they wanted but never drawing so much attention to themselves that they became hunted by their own prey. Rose knew it amused them to watch humanity coo over their kind making the humans docile and receptive to becoming a meal. It disgusted Rose and she never hesitated to make her opinions known to any who would listen. Of course, not all humans were susceptible to the blood suckers glamour and slight of hand. There were people like Rose, slayers, who saw them for what they were, monsters.

She looked again at the advert for the Peter Vincent show. He knew. Peter Vincent was well aware of how dangerous the undead really were. He may play a part in this shiny and flash filled mecca for depravity and all things glamorous but it was all a front. Rose had heard the whole story from another vampyr hunter named River Song. River was older than Rose, a tall curly haired blonde with a taste for danger and blowing things up. They'd met in a bar in Barcelona on the hunt for a coven of the undead led by an eight hundred year old Vampyr named Kovarian. Five Tequilas, a shot of absinthe and a few good snogs later, a friendship was made.

The two of them had gone in armed to the hilt, stakes, swords, blow torch guns, auto fire crossbow and Rose's favourite, a specially made scythe that was blessed by Pope Pius, VI in 1886. The two of them had burst into the nest located in a cellar beneath a popular nightclub. They had grinned at each other and bet each other on who could kill more. It had been a massacre, blood spraying everywhere, body parts flying, vampire dust exploding, glinting of a sword and scythe mixed with both women shouting out numbers of kills mixed with saucy comments about _suck this fang face_ or _God but they stink_! Kovarian was last and it took both of them to burn her to cinders. Afterwards, it was time to dance and drink away what they had just done.

Rose awakened the next morning alone in bed with a note that said: _Until next time, Sweetie_. She had smiled, showered and moved on. It wasn't surprising. It was safer for their kind not to hang around each other too much. It made them targets. Still, River Song had been fun and was now on the friends and allies list. It was a list she hoped to add Peter Vincent to.

Later that night, Rose found the infamous Peter Vincent in a dark dingy alley surrounded by five vamps. He didn't appear worried even though he was outnumbered but Rose knew better. The day you stopped worrying was the day you died.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he shouted, as the five hissing vampyrs moved closer to him, two newly turned females with a hungry look in their eyes and three males of varying ages, one who was definitely older and leading them.

"Peeeeter Vinnnncent," the raven haired vampyr hissed. He was tall and broad shouldered dressed in an old fashioned green velvet Victorian frock coat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. It was obvious he was close to a hundred years old.

Peter looked him up and down and snorted. 'Maybe you missed it but frock coats are so out. Especially with bits of blood and oh god! Is that rotting flesh stuck there," Peter said and winced. "Blimey, you lot really need to learn how to fucking clean up after a meal."

The vampire laughed. "And will it matter as I rip out your throat?"

"Cocky bastard, aren't you. Maybe you missed out, but as the Americans say, I'm a bit of a bad ass. What makes you think you and the baby nippers here can fuck with me?"

"We are stronger, faster and superior," he announced with smugness.

"Yeah, well mate, I've still killed hundreds of your kind," Peter retorted, shifting back into the alley looking nervously for a weapon or an advantage. A year ago, before he met Charley Brewster, he would have been screaming like a girl and probably would have been dead already. But after you walk into a nest of vamps, almost become one and help kill a master like Vampyr Jerry, it gave one a sense of accomplishment. Maybe it even bumped up his courage and he'd killed several more since then. Vegas was his and he wasn't sharing it with any fucking blood suckers.

"And I have killed thousands of your kind but none will be more enjoyable as I slowly drain the life from your cowardly, useless body!" the vampyr hissed as he prepared to leap on Peter.

"Oi!" Rose shouted at the entrance to the alley, the moonlight highlighting her long blonde hair.

The vampyrs turned on her. The older vampyr smiled a toothy grin. "Kill him slowly while I play with our new friend," he ordered.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Fucking fantastic. I get the baby vamps while some blonde tourist get's up close and personal with Victorian Lord McBitey!"

He grabbed a metal trash lid and threw it at one vamp whilst pulling a stake out of a hidden holster and staking another. He rolled to the side as the other three came after him. A noise caught his attention. He looked over to find the blonde woman giving Lord McBitey a run for his money. The vamp wasn't happy and was becoming reckless as it attacked her. She wasn't afraid. Quite the contrary, she was having a good time and laughing as she tossed the vamp around like it was some game. She was fast too. It was like she anticipated every move the vampyr made. Soon, said vampyr skidded across the alley and slid into the remaining three vamps.

Peter looked up at this simply dressed girl in jeans and a leather jacket. "Who the fuck are you?" he demanded as on of the young vamps came at him. He whipped out a stake and had it dusted in quick order.

Rose smiled at Peter. He was just as she'd been told, brash, cocky and pretty. He was also a decent fighter. "Me? Oh I'm nobody really. Just out for a walk and saw you might need a hand."

The old vampyr leapt up, fangs bared and about to land on her. Rose just smiled and pulled a machete out from a holster hidden beneath her jacket on her back and with one clean blow, cut Lord McBitey's head off. The other vamps stopped dead still, staring at her. She toed the head away and shot a fierce look at them. "Tell your Mistress the Slayer's in town and she's not pleased."

The vamps disappeared in a blur of terror. Peter ran a hand through his tousled brown hair and stared at her not in disbelief but in suspicion. He'd seen a fair amount of weird paranormal things over his lifetime, some real and some fake but he'd never met a slayer. They were the stuff of legend and he'd thought it was just a myth to scare the vamps. As he looked at the petite, curvy but powerful blonde, he could believe it. He also felt a few things stirring in him at the thought of watching her beat the piss out of those blood suckers. It was sort of erotic watching the hot blonde kick arse. A smirk lit his face.

"Slayer are you? Maybe, or maybe you're just here to loosen old Peter up a bit, get under my skin so some nasty can slit my throat in the middle of the night. Maybe that's you. Send in the sexy slayer to fuck my brains out and then dabble in a little post coital murder."

Rose stared at him for a moment still holding the machete dripping in vampyr blood and then she laughed so much her entire body shook. Still giggling and looking at him she walked over to the open trash can and wiped the blade off on some crumpled up paper and resheathed it. When she turned back to him, he looked put out and tense as if expecting her to attack him. Rose giggled some more.

"Look mate, I came here 'cos I heard you were in a bit of a bad way and needed some help. Although, from the look of you, I'd say you don't know it yet."

"What do you mean I need help? I was doing fine, sweetheart!"

"Yeah, 'cos you always face off against five vamps, two of which were young and hungry and at least one was old enough to lay down some serious shit on your arse. You know that's not normal and by now you've got to be wonderin' why five of 'em working together was after you."

Peter shifted a bit, adjusting his long black leather coat and scraping his black leather boots on the damp pavement of the alley. He had to admit, she was right. Something was up and he didn't like it. There'd been more attacks lately and it was too many vamps for him to keep up with. "Something's here," he said with a hard edge to his voice.

"Yeah," Rose answered, nodding her head. "There's a really old one in town. I hear she's out for blood but not just the kind she eats. She wants revenge and guess who her least favourite vampire hunter is?"

Peter's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. "Shit." He began pacing, his long coat barely skimming the ground before he turned on her, his dark brown eyes flashing with annoyance and a hint of fear. "What the fuck did I do to whoever this is? I've not fucked around with any old hag vamps!"

"No, well, you killed her lover," Rose answered calmly, watching Peter begin to tug at his luscious brown locks. She had to admit he was a bit fine even in this agitated state. He was lean, wirey with long legs and narrow hips and she wondered what it would be like to ride him hard. She licked her lips. Sex with normal humans was disappointing. They were breakable and one had to be careful but shagging another slayer or a hunter like him…they were strong, tough and liked it rough and satisfying. It had been a while since she'd indulged her sexual urges. She worked off enough energy with fighting but a girl had needs and she'd more than likely be in town a while to deal with this vamp issue.

Finally, Peter paused and looked at her. "Jerry," he said and then proceeded to curse, stomp and throw things against the brick walls of the narrow alley. "Fucking bloodsucker had to have some old vampy bit of fang on the side." He stormed up to Rose who didn't flinch. She just stood there as he loomed over her to his full height which was much taller than her. Not, of course, that she couldn't have taken him in a fight.

"So Vampyra want's my arse, does she? So what, she sends rubbish vamps to do her dirty work? What kind of vengeful demon is she? If she's that pissed off at me, wouldn't she want to kill me herself? I mean, it doesn't makes sense." He snorted and paced a bit more. "Bloody hell, like killing fucking vampires and fucking vengeful she demons does makes sense! I didn't even kill the evil bastard! That was good old Charley boy and he's long since gone from here."

"Yeah, I heard he and his girlfriend are in a safe house in France," Rose responded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Fucking France and I'm stuck in this shit hole full of the evil undead! I helped save him and his girlfriend and he's lounging about in France fucking his brains out drinking and partying and I'm here fighting for my life! Where's the justice in that!"

Rose shrugged. "Life's a bitch. 'Sides, you're hunter. It's who you are, who you've always been and always will be. You're like me. Our world isn't theirs."

He rolled his head and stared up at the dark sky that was beginning to lighten as the dawn neared. "Fucking brilliant." He looked at her again. "And you, you have a name then?"

She smiled at him showing just the tip of her tongue. "Rose, Rose Tyler."

His dark mood evaporated at her flirtatious smile. She may be some mystical bad arsed slayer, but she was gorgeous and real. He liked that. In fact, he may like her quite a lot and not just because she saved him. "You hungry then Rose Tyler?"

Rose stepped forward, looking him up and down and biting on her bottom lip. "I could do with some chips."

"Chips? This isn't London, sweetheart, It's Vegas and we don't exactly do chips here."

She looked at him with an arched brow and he found himself unable to say no to her. He sighed. "Oh fuck. All right, maybe I know a place that has decent chips but you're payin!"

She smiled brighter at him metamorphosing from avenging angel to a fresh faced twenty something year old out and about looking for fun. She grabbed his hand, swinging it between them as they walked away from the alley and began lecturing him on how everyone deserved chips after vanquishing the undead. His response was a snort and moaning that a nip of something stronger would be better.

p-v-p-v-p-v- p-v-p-v-p-v

Chips turned into Rose moving in with him and inventorying his supernatural weaponry collection. It wasn't uncommon to find her tossing something aside declaring it shit or rubbish until she found something she liked which she cooed to or hugged to her like she wanted to marry it. He would roll his eyes muttering about nutter slayers. He tried to pull her a few times and she would just smile and told him if he could best her in a fight, she'd give him a shag he wouldn't forget.

That led to sparring matches, none of which he won. The plus side was he worked off some energy and was a bit more fit for his magic show. He still would bring home the occasional one night stand and asked her to join them if she was around. She'd look the girl over and respond that she looked a bit too fragile or not her type or even wrinkle her nose and whisper you can do better than that. Often, whilst he was working his magic show, she was roaming the streets, terrorizing the undead and trying to keep the streets vamp free. This was a monumental task considering how many vampyrs were now making Las Vegas home. The numbers were startling to her. This was no small infestation.

A few times, Peter would join her after his show. Going out to hunt wasn't something he looked forward to doing. He had a great affection for being alive and keeping himself in one piece. His preferred post show activity was shagging, drinking or watching telly. Still, with Rose there, hunting became a bit more appealing even if it did risk his life.

Vampyr hunting with Rose made his blood pump and his heart beat harder than even a good shag. He liked that just like he enjoyed watching her slay. She was gorgeous the way she moved, elegant-like, in a macabre dance ending in the decapitation or staking of the undead. He found himself joining her, moving in tandem to her staking a vamp here and there, blowing a head off with his shot gun, sexy, or even pulling out his new sword he had made, a shiny implement of death which he wielded with his own brand of grace. Each night, they ended their killing spree with chips and an after slayage drink at his apartment. He would try and seduce her expressing that a good fuck would help her sleep after all that adrenalin inducing vamp hunting.

Rose would smile sexily at him, lean over and snog him, long and deep, pulling away and whispering not yet. It was enough to send him to a cold shower and he'd been taking plenty of those with her around. He was determined that they would be together and when they did, it would be mind blowing. In fact, after staring at her lips for weeks, he had been a bit focused on blowing period.

Eventually, things reached a head. Their nemesis, a centuries old vampyr by the name of Joan showed up at one of Peter's shows. Peter had muttered about fucking vampyrs choosing bland names and who the fuck calls a vamp Jerry or Joan for that matter? In fact, Joan didn't just show up to watch, she flew up on the stage during the performance.

"The Great Peter Vincent," she purred as she sashayed across the stage in a long slinky silver sequined gown, her blonde hair curled stylishly about her shoulders. She smiled ruby red lips showing just a hint of fangs and her eyes glowed an unholy green colour. "You don't look so great to me." She casually grabbed one of his vampire cast mates and snapped her neck. The black-wigged scantily clad woman fell to the floor with a thud. "Oops," Joan said with no concern. "Your kind is so breakable." She continued walking over toward Peter who was dressed for the stage in a long black wig, tight black leather trousers, crucifix dangling over his bare chest and wearing his beloved long black leather coat. He stood tall watching her, trying to maintain his character even though fear coursed through him. Movement off to the side caught his eye as evil vamp Joan's vampire entourage crawled up on the stage, dressed for a night on the town. One ginger haired vamp grabbed another of his female cast and bit down on her neck, blood spurting and puddling on his stage.

Peter swallowed hard as they approached and quickly scanned for anything he could use as a weapon. He kept thinking he was so fucked since most of the stage props were nothing but plastic or rubber. He knew sometimes Rose watched his show, if only to tease him. He hoped tonight was one of those nights. His only recourse was to delay nasty Joan until Rose could help and he could think of a way to deal with the nasty vamp.

"You took something dear from me," she continued as she walked across the stage in sparkly stilettos, the blue stage lights highlighting the paleness of her skin. "Jerry and I knew each other for centuries. He was talented in oh so many ways. Mmmmm when I think of how he could draw out a good torture, make humans beg for death and stop just before they died, bringing them back to do it all over again. No one knew how to scratch my itch like him. Centuries of friendship, fucking and ripping through humanity gone now due to some pathetic human infant and a half rate Vegas magician!" she snarled at him.

Peter backed up a step noticing the audience didn't seem to be concerned. Then it hit him, they thought it was part of the show. Even his producer seemed mesmerized. Well fuck, if they thought that, he would make it good. He inhaled and put on his best stage face. "Sorry 'bout that demon but that's how this world is. You kill us, we kill you right back. Your undead lover was nothing compared to me!" He then followed this was grand stage gestures whilst inside his heart was thumping in fear.

"How dare you make a mockery of us…of Jerry!" Her face contorted and the real demon came out.

"Fuck but you're an ugly bitch!" he called out and grabbed candelabra and threw it across the stage at a vamp that was bout to snack on another of his fake vampire cast mates. Joan raced at him and he ducked to the side, his black coat flaring about him. Two of Joan's vampire entourage were about to pounce when smoke exploded on stage out of which strode Rose, dressed in leather trousers and a black leather corset, her hair fluffed out and her eyes rimmed in kohl. She looked part of the act. She grinned and winked at him lying on the floor a few feet from her.

"Need a hand love?" she asked as she slid a stake out from one of her boots and proceeded to make easy work of two of the vamps attacking him. She tossed it over to him and slid another out of her other boot.

He stood up. "Let's kick some undead arse!" Rose executed several tumbles across the stage, a few kicks knocking some vamps down and somersaulting over others. A few grabbed her and flung her across the stage but she rolled up quickly. The undead fought like animals, smart animals, using long claw-like nails and nipping at her. One scraped it's talons across her side drawing blood the scent of which drove them mad. Rose ignored the pain and used it to push onward. As she fought the vampyr minions, Joan pursued Peter.

Peter wasn't as athletic as Rose and Joan was fast, faster than anyone could see. She could have snapped his neck in an instant but she was intent on revenge, drawing it out and making him suffer. He found himself flying through the air and crashing into a set piece intended to look like a boulder. He rolled off and groaned. Joan was there again kicking him with her rhinestone encrusted stilettos and raking her clawed nails across his chest drawing blood He was tossed about like a rag doll and was sure he heard at least one rib crack.

The vampyr took her time walking around him as if to show she was superior and was in control. She grabbed a hot light and pressed it to his side causing him to cry out in pain as the heat seared him. "Hurts to burn, doesn't it?" she taunted. "My Jerry burned cause of you!"

Peter grunted, twisted around and knocked her legs out, grabbing the light and smashing it into her head. "Yeah, it fucking hurts!"

She shot up pushing him back. He stumbled and fell.

"I'm not going to kill you, Peter. I'm going to do worse." She stood over him with her stiletto pressed into his crouch and leaned over him triumphantly. "I'm gonna make you my slave, eating you slowly, sucking the life out of you as you crawl on the floor leashed like the dog you are and just as you beg me to end your life, I'll turn you and make you suffer for centuries."

"I don't bloody thinks so!" Rose announced and grabbed Joan by the hair and yanked her backwards. Rose thrust the stake forward but Joan was too fast. She grabbed the stake and twisted away. She snapped it in half and laughed at Rose.

"Well, well what have we here? A slayer? Come to protect poor little Peter Vincent?" She turned to Peter. "You're so pathetic you can't even defend yourself. You have to call on little girls to save you."

Rose sprang on her but Joan caught her by the neck and dangled her a foot off the ground. "And to think I thought slayers were tough."

Rose glared at her unable to speak and gasping for air, her feet moving trying to wiggle free from Joan's grasp. Then, something in her eyes changed and her grip on Joan's arms firmed up and she shot her legs forward against Joan's chest, shifting the vamp off balance. Peter shot forward against her legs causing Joan to tumble backwards losing her grip on Rose. Peter grabbed Rose and yanked her back as he held out his hand in dramatic fashion and shouted out, "Get back foul demon!" Suddenly fire erupted from his hand as was intended as part of his act. Of course, it was not intended to really set someone on fire but Joan lit up like a torch. Rose grinned and ran for a lantern at the side of the stage and threw it at Joan who screamed as she was engulfed in more flames. The stage crew looked on in shock. This wasn't part of the act and they knew it. Joan hissed as she burned, transforming into something unholy, a demon that looked part bat. She tried to flee into the crowd but Rose grabbed a tall standing candelabra and ran in front of her.

"I don't think so Evelina! Time to die." She shoved the candelabra at the hissing burning vampyr who batted it away tossing Rose aside as she held it. This gave Peter time to sneak up behind her.

"Oh Joan, love?" he called out. She turned burning arms spread wide ready to attack and he stuck her with a stake, straight through the heart. "Eat this blood sucker!" he snarled.

Joan exploded in flames and dust. The crowd roared to life, screaming his name. Peter stood stunned for a moment before holding his arms wide and bowing his head. He looked at Rose and inclined his head. She jumped up and stood next to him and bowed with him before they ran off the stage hand in hand.

As they ran off, they noticed that somehow his dead cast mates had disappeared. That was a matter to be dealt with later. Once back stage, he found himself thrown against a wall with his leather clad Rose plastered against him, her tongue sliding easily into his mouth. His chest hurt where the vamp had gouged him but he didn't give a fuck as long as he had Rose wrapped around him.

When she pulled back she smiled. "That was amazing! Never slayed with an audience like that before. It was real…."

"It's a high. All those people watching and all that energy rolling off of them into you. All their focus on you and what you're doing makes things intense and everything feels more alive."

"Yeah," Rose agreed, her fingers tracing his wounds and making him shiver as her hand glided down and palmed his already bulging trousers. "You know, I was never one to stick around for the clean-up and someone should really tend to these wounds. Maybe we should…" she asked with that flirtatious smile and indicating they take off.

He didn't need to be asked twice. The ride in the lift up to his flat was more about her grinding against him, pulling off his wig and bits of his costume. Fake metal crucifix clinked to the floor, as she ran her hands over his lightly haired chest, careful to avoid the scratches but still grazing him slightly with her nails. She slid her hand beneath the waistband of his leather trousers and her fingers barely traced his erection. He groaned into her mouth as he sucked and nipped at her. One hand squeezed her arse and held her to him while his other tangled in her hair to hold her steady.

Neither of them could get enough of the other and were impatient to tug clothing off. As the lift dinged and the doors opened, he pushed off the wall and guided her out. She shoved his leather coat off his shoulders whilst groaning and continuing a deep, tongue tangling snog and sucking at his lower pouty lip which had driven her mad for weeks.

He pulled back, breathing heavy. "Rose," he groaned and ripped at her corset, grunting in frustration when it wouldn't give. She pulled a dagger out of a hidden sheath and handed it to him with an arched brow. He quickly sliced through the lacing and flung it aside revealing her creamy pink tipped breasts. He wasted no time latching onto her breast, his tongue working her nipple as he grazed her with his teeth.

Rose mewled feeling hot and needing to feel his flesh against hers. She raked her nails across his back. "Peter, I need you," she groaned.

He released her breast with one final nip. And yanked her hard against his chest, feeling her nipples pebble and forgetting about any wounds he suffered. He wanted her to feel how much he needed her. He slammed his mouth against hers and walked her backwards toward his bedroom. They paused once as she ripped the lacings of his leather trousers and grabbed his hardened length squeezing slightly.

"Fuck, Rose!" he gasped.

"Yeah," she growled and nipped at his neck. "Hard and frequently."

He shoved her toward his bedroom where she turned them around and pushed him down onto the bed. She stood before him, hair free and curling about her, bare breasted with only leather trousers and boots covering her. She smiled and licked her lips as she looked down at him. "Strip!" she ordered.

He quickly pulled off his boots and peeled off his leather trousers but leather was tricky to get off. Rose had already removed hers and yanked at his trousers as he struggled to kick them the rest of the way off. He lay back on the bed watching as Rose crawled across the black coverlet, almost as if she was stalking him, her eyes zeroed in on his. He could barely think of a time when he was more turned on. She was curvy with creamy white skin and perky breasts that just fit his hands and she looked like she wanted to devour him.

She settled herself over his hips and leaned over to lick up his neck. He swore his cock twitched in response. "I want to fuck you, Peter Vincent," she moaned into his ear as she nipped at his lobe. His hands slid up her thighs, curving around her arse and then settled on her hips.

"And I want to be fucked by you, Rose Tyler," he growled back, drawing out her name.

She peppered kisses along his jaw feeling the beginnings of scruff and rubbed her cheek against his. "Mmmmm, I'm glad 'cos I might burst into flames hotter than that vamp if I don't have you."

His hands moved around her, low across her abdomen before dipping in between her thighs slipping through her wet folds. She rocked into his long tapered fingers as they slid into her, his thumb circling her clit in a slow delicious way, just grazing it. "Peter, please," she groaned and gripped his shoulders as he pumped into her more swirling and pressing harder, tweaking that sweet bundle of nerves until she gasped and grabbed his wrist and pressed him hard against her intimately until she shuddered. She groaned and looked at him with heavily lidded eyes. "Mmmm but that was just a tease. Now I got to tease you back."

He licked his lips at the dark promise in her eyes and watched as she leaned over and began licking his chest, carefully avoiding his wounds but blowing on them to elicit a reaction. He inhaled deeply and arched up, still hard and needing release. Soon, he felt her hot breath against his cock followed by her warm mouth.

"Rose, fuck yes!"

She hummed as she licked and sucked him up and down in a rhythm he had only fantasized about. The very thought of her plump pink lips wrapped around him was enough to make him come but she was good at this and knew when to stop or slow down to draw it out. His hips bucked and he gripped her hair hard cursing and begging. Her teeth grazed him and just as her tongue swirled his tip he came with a shout.

He looked up to find her look down at him with a pleased smile, She leaned over him, and kissed him deeply and then cuddled carefully onto his chest. He winced.

"You need me to see to that?" she asked softly, her fingers gently trailing down his chest near the deep scratches.

"No, just stay here for a bit."

"I intend to. Not done with you yet," she teased and continued stroking his chest.

"And I'm nowhere near done with you. Just give me a moment," he said in relaxed voice, his own fingers trailing up and down her side and tracing her injuries which were healing remarkably fast. "You slayers, don't take long to heal."

"Nope!" she said popping her p. "A bit of a perk for you know, keeping the world safe and all that."

He chuckled. "Yeah, guess so." He paused. "Haven't really thanked you yet."

"Mmmm, don't worry you will." She reached down and gave his cock a caress. "And it won't be long before you do. Hunters get a few perks too now don't they?" she teased.

He grinned. "Wouldn't wanna brag but I am a bit good in the sack, especially with you. You tend to make this old hunter a hornier bastard than normal. I swear, watching you dust a vamp and be all powerful…it makes me wanna fuck you all night."

Rose giggled. "You certainly know how to sweet talk a girl."

He gave her cheeky grin. "That's me, love!" His smile softened. "I'll always be honest with you. Not gonna lie 'bout how I feel. Life's too short."

Rose sat up and looked into his eyes, so dark and filled with pain and maybe something more. He'd seen death and the horrors that surrounded people every day. He played at being the foul mouthed over the top Vegas showman but there was a lot more to Peter Vincent. Underneath all the stage make up and bravado, was the man and one who cared. Rose pressed her lips to his gently and tenderly and felt his hand grip her hip. He kissed her harder and with more command. Rose returned his passionate kiss and slid on top of him as she felt him harden against her thigh.

She sat up, and settled on his hips again, gently allowing her finger tips to dance over his chest until she gripped his cock. She smiled softly and darkly at him, promising something more as her finger tips traced his length and she shifted to angle their bodies and poise him at her entrance.

He gripped her hips as she sank down onto him, allowing him to slide into her, filling her and hitting her just right. She bit her lip and allowed her head to roll back as she enjoyed the feeling of him inside of her. It was just so good to feel him like this. She shifted her ships and swivelled. He cursed and arched off the bed.

She leaned forward and began rocking her hips, feeling him sliding within her. Soon the familiar heat was pooling low in her and she needed more. She gripped his forearms and moved faster and with more vigour, her breasts gently bouncing with the movement. Curses slipped off her own lips as they moved together and she felt one of his hands slide over and his finger flicked her clit. "Fuck, Peter, yes!" she shouted and moved faster, riding him hard, feeling sweat slick her skin as they moved together until in one buck of his hips she screamed and not long after her he shouted and spilled himself inside of her. It was a few minutes before either of them could do more than breathe hard. She slid off of him and curled up to his side smiling. "God that was good," she murmured.

He reached over for a tissue to clean them up and tossed it off the side of the bed. He pulled her into his arms, inhaling her scent, sex mixed with something like vanilla and jasmine with a hint of strawberry in her hair. He wrapped his arms around her and murmured a few more filthy promises that left her humming and smiling before he drifted off to sleep.

He awakened the next morning and sat bolt upright to find himself alone in bed. He leapt up and winced, holding his side. "Fucking vamps," he muttered as he remembered he had been tossed around yesterday and probably cracked a rib.

He stumbled out of his bedroom naked and holding his side to find Rose dressed and looking packed. "Leaving all ready?" he asked.

She looked over at him and smiled, her eyes lingering on certain parts she had become acquainted with the prior night. "Yeah, it's what I do. Told ya, never really stick around for the clean-up."

"I still need you," he said, trying not to sound needy. "Joan left a lot of fledgling vamps around. Could use a hand."

"You don't need me. You're Peter Vincent, the great vampire hunter."

He stepped forward. "So you'll what? Run off to find more vamps to slay?"

Rose shrugged her shoulders. "I go where I'm needed. Besides, it's not safe for you if I stay. Something worse than Joan may come here if I stay."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Lots of vamps need slaying here and I'm about to get the blame for killing two Master Vamps. Think that puts me in loads more danger. I need you."

She stood for a moment staring at him. Slayers had an ability to feel where they were needed. They knew, were drawn to certain places. Rose still felt drawn here. He was right and she was running away from him. Somewhere and somehow things had gotten personal. She didn't understand it but there was something about this Peter Vincent. She was only leaving because it scared her, because she cared about him and was afraid of losing him like she'd lost her family. She looked down at the floor and fidgeted.

"Rose, I can't make you stay but if you do, I…" he paused and scratched his head. "You could stay with me…here and well, there's a job for you down in the casino. I mean they loved you in the show. You and me could take this town by storm."

She giggled. Her, a slayer on stage with Peter Vincent pretending to slay tarty vamps. It was too perfect and she had to admit, she'd had fun last night. And, he needed her and maybe it was time for her to settle down for a bit.

"Well, can't disappoint the crowds then can I? And…" She paused and looked around his flat, her eyes lighting on him and his arse. "I kind of like this place. Can't beat the view."

He smirked at her and held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Come on then. This old man could use a bit of tender loving care."

"Oh, don't be such a baby! It's only a cracked rib or two. When I was in Berlin facing off against this five hundred year old vamp called Davros, dislocated my shoulder and I wasn't all wussy about it. Still burned up the old creep and still went out for drinks that night!" she lectured as she led him back to his bedroom for a little of her own brand of nursing.


End file.
